


your forgiveness (that's something I can't buy)

by devilsxbride



Series: Broken Halos [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Angst with a Happy Ending, Confrontations, Declarations Of Love, Domestic Fluff, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Healthy Communication, Hopeful Ending, Lawyer Castiel (Supernatural), Lawyer Dean Winchester, Love at First Sight, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Misunderstandings, Moving In Together, Passive-Aggressive Castiel (Supernatural), Post-Betrayal, References to Depression, References to a past long-distance relationship, Rings, Road Trips, Texting, Trust Issues, talks of marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25539430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/devilsxbride/pseuds/devilsxbride
Summary: After having spent six months apart, rival attorneys and long-term partners Cas and Dean are working on regaining their feet, both professionally and as a couple. On their first day of going back to work, Cas stumbles upon something he wasn’t supposed to find in their new apartment.--------------------------------------------------The lack of air conditioning in the apartment, mixed with his erratic behavior from the moment he’d woken up, and the fact that his damn lucky pocket square is nowhere to be found - it’s all giving Castiel major hot flashes and driving him positively insane.Fuck, he’s gonna be so late on his first day back in the office.He’d searched through all of the drawers, felt around and below the mattress and all the pillows, checked all the boxes, including his still unpacked suitcase, and Dean’s prescription meds storage box and - Oh…There’s another smaller box in there, thrown among the pills and covered by the prescription notes. A bit bulky and square, wooden and obviously hand painted into a dark blue, with initials C.W carved into it. It resembles one of those jewelry boxes where you keep an…No, that’s absurd. That can’t possibly be it.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, implied Sam Winchester/Jess, implied past Dean Winchester/Crowley
Series: Broken Halos [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1850620
Comments: 19
Kudos: 134





	your forgiveness (that's something I can't buy)

**Author's Note:**

> For someone who has a tendency to go with the flow while writing, rather than to plot upfront, and is way too lazy to revise before publishing, I’ve put a great deal of time, thought and effort into making sure that every sentence in this piece has a purpose. This has ultimately resulted in me making some sacrifices in the content I've put out in this story, meaning that I've left all the smut out, 'cause it's not something that I'm fully comfortable with yet and I didn't want to force anything into a piece of fiction that otherwise came easy for me to write. 
> 
> This was supposed to be a short fic, up to 2000 words at most. Something to get my creative juices flowing after many dry and unproductive months. Instead, I’ve ended up creating a 12k story, and Google Drive document where I’ve fleshed out dozens of moments in time for this AU's Dean and Cas. I am happy to say that it is likely I’ll make a series out of this, ‘cause there are many aspects of their relationship that I’d still like to explore. I’ve (hopefully successfully) hinted at some them, and if you do end up liking this piece, I’d like to hear your suggestions on things you’d like to read about as well. I'll do my best to go on about tackling that.
> 
> If you wanna talk, you can find me on my tumblr - aelysianmuse.tumblr.com

“Relax, I can hear you freaking out from miles away. We still got an hour ‘till the hearing.” Dean mumbles around a mouthful of toothpaste, and an artificial whiff of mint hits his nostrils. The mostly unfurnished space of their new bathroom carries the echo of his voice into the bedroom, where he can hear his boyfriend’s nervous pacing. 

“Yeah, easy for  _ you _ to say. You got up two hours ago-” Cas remarks, and fuck, he really shouldn’t have pushed the snooze button on his alarm for thirty minutes. “-and don’t you dare say  _ who’s fault is that.”  _ He adds in a lower timber, doing an impression of how Dean sounds when calling him out on his bullshit. 

As a precautionary measure, Dean peeks out of the bathroom for a brief moment, toothbrush hanging low between his lips, and his hands up in the air signaling that he’s coming in peace. 

Although on edge, Cas can’t but force out a high pitched whine in place of an apology for needlessly snapping at Dean. Dean must be tired of hearing Cas say sorry as often as he does nowadays, but it’s only been two weeks since they’d settled back into being  _ them,  _ and Cas figured it couldn’t hurt to be extra cautious for a while longer. 

Besides, if there’s anyone who doesn’t deserve to be at the receiving end of Castiel’s frustrations, it’s Dean. Beautiful Dean, who's turning off the TV as soon as Cas is feeling sleepy, and following him into the bedroom, not once staying behind only to join Cas later. He’s explained that it’s because he doesn’t want either of them falling asleep out of each other’s embrace. Dean who drowsily murmurs “Good morning, my love” into the nook where his neck and shoulder meets, and peppers him with kisses until Cas is fully awake. Dean, his protector, who’s pulling sheets over Cas whenever he manages to uncover himself in the middle of the night, and then throws his leg and arm around Cas, tugging him impossibly close to his chest. 

“ _ An hour  _ prior to the hearing is usually when I’m already at the court, making sure that my idiot client doesn’t say the exact thing that I’ve been instructing him to keep his mouth shut about.” Which, let’s face it, is likely exactly what his idiot client will do. ‘Cause that’s just Castiel’s luck. Of course his first case back in the office would be the one where he’s pitted against Dean, and the one that he’s set to lose on top of it all. Mind you, his office was very happy to take him back after he quit his job for a seemingly better opportunity across the country, but this was the exact kind of case you  _ wouldn’t _ want to be handed while attempting to prove your worth, after said opportunity didn’t pan out and you had to crawl back to your old boss.

_ If only he’d listened to Dean, none of this would have happened... _

“And where  _ is  _ the damn thing?” Cas continues, unable to keep the frustration out of his voice while rummaging through piles of wrinkled clothing, only furthering the mess that mostly  _ he  _ had contributed to within the past two weeks. 

It must’ve been the worst possible timing, when they got the call two weeks ago to move into their new apartment. Cas had just moved back to LA after the whole fiasco with Crowley and Dean had finally gotten a new job. In between Cas trying to rediscover his place in the company, Dean taking on extra hours to prove himself worthy of keeping around the office, and both of them working on rebuilding the trust Cas had broken, neither of them had the time or energy to furnish or keep the place particularly clean. 

This didn’t inconvenience Cas much, as he’s always been the messier one out of the two of them, prone to discarding his clothes on the nearest chair, or leaving empty bottles and cans laying around the floor. He found it fairly easy to settle into the new routine of working on the mattress, the kitchen counter, on the ground or wherever there was space unoccupied by the unpacked boxes, piles of clothing or cardboard leftovers of all the takeaway junk food they’ve been ordering. Dean, on the other hand, must have been going out of his mind from all the mess and lack of proper nutrition, despite not having made a single remark about it. 

Now, don’t get him wrong, Cas was grateful for Dean being so patient, and understanding  _ and all around wonderful,  _ especially in midst of all the chaos they were going through professionally and personally. It’s  _ just _ that he was being a bit  _ too  _ wonderful,  _ considering... _

And sure, they’d gotten back together - or reunited, _whatever_ , ‘cause it’s not like they ever officially broke up or anything. And they talked it out like the two grown up, mature men that they are. Dean had insisted that the whole ordeal was behind them, and now that they’ve bought a place together and made a home out of it, he was ready to start a family with Cas - but…

“What are you even looking for?” Dean’s voice interrupts the onslaught of intrusive thoughts in Cas’s head. 

_ But nothing _ . He was being paranoid and insecure, because he was the one who betrayed Dean’s trust. He was the one who left when Dean needed him the most. But Dean has forgiven him and they’ve agreed to move past Castiel’s regretful lapse of judgment. 

“I’m looking for my lucky pocket square. The honeycomb one.” Cas could almost hear Gabriel’s voice in his head, ridiculing him for his superstitious belief that carrying random items around might bring him luck, but Castiel wasn’t above silly convictions in desperate times. 

“Check the drawers, I’m pretty sure I saw it somewhere the other day.” There is a sound of Dean spitting out what Cas assumed was toothpaste into the sink. Cas finds it admirable and cute that Dean actually takes the advised,  _ lengthy _ time for carrying out his beauty and hygiene regimen. Especially considering that Cas is the kind of person to slab everything on in ten minutes and be well on his way out. “I didn’t have the time to properly clean, so I just shoved our stuff wherever I could to make space. Did you check your pocket?” 

The sounds of hectic movement continue in the bedroom, verbal response absent. It’s a sharp contrast to the calm of Dean’s morning ritual coming to an end. Unlike Cas, who’d refused to get out of bed ‘till the last minute, only to maniacally stumble out of their bed upon realizing what time it is, Dean had woken up at six and has been taking his sweet time to get ready ever since. 

Regardless of being a morning bird, this time around it wasn’t his internal clock, but rather the nerves that had Dean unable to sleep any longer. After all, this case is as important to him as it is to Cas, if not more. Therefore, he figured it wouldn’t hurt to put in extra effort into looking sharp. 

Although money isn’t as tight as it had been half a year ago, when they’d put down the security deposit down for the apartment, and he isn’t in half as bad of a mental state as he was after getting fired, it’s been six months since he’s last worked or contributed to Cas’s and his living expenses. The latter has been weighing on him significantly for a substantial amount of time now, not that he’d ever admit it out loud. 

During what they refer to as ‘ _ The Fight’ _ , Cas had made a careless comment on the matter and he’s been beating himself up over it ever since. People say all sorts of stuff in the heat of the moment, when they’re exhausted, angry and brainwashed by scumbags like Crowley, and Dean reminds himself often of that, so he’s determined not to let it get between them. 

Anyway, it is important that he leaves a good impression in the court today, but more importantly - their anniversary is just around the corner, so if Dean wants to look très handsome for his bae, where’s the fault in that? Also, he figured it would be romantic if he took Cas out on a date after the hearing, seeing how they’d first met and fallen in love with each other as rivals in the court. And it’s been _way_ too long since they went on a date. 

This would be good for them.

Back in the bedroom, Cas is wiping the sweat beading on his forehead with the back of his arm, regretful that he’d rushed into fully dressing himself before making sure that he had all the necessary components to his outfit at ready. The lack of air conditioning in the apartment, mixed with his erratic behavior and the fact that the  _ damn pocket square  _ is nowhere to be found - it’s all giving Cas major hot flashes and driving him positively insane. 

Fuck, he’s gonna be so late on his first day back in the office.

He’s searched through all of the drawers, felt around and below the mattress and all the pillows, checked all the boxes, including his still unpacked suitcase and Dean’s prescription meds storage box and -  _ Oh… _

There’s another box in there, thrown among the pills and covered by the prescription notes. A bit bulky and square, wooden and obviously hand painted into a dark blue, with initials  _ C.W _ carved into it. It resembles one of those jewelry boxes where you keep an…

_ No,  _ that’s absurd. That can’t possibly be  _ it _ . 

Taking in a sharp breath, Cas takes a quick glance behind his shoulder and finds that he’s still alone in the room. He can hear Dean whistling an unrecognizable tune in the bathroom. When he turns back around and reaches for the box, he does so with a stampeding heart and trembling hands, and not having had time to make himself coffee this morning, he didn’t have caffeine to blame for the nerves. 

_ Obviously _ , he’s being ridiculous for even going  _ there  _ in his mind. Getting riled up over a mystery box, like it could wield something more than perhaps that ring of John’s that Dean stopped wearing ages ago. In fact, Dean and he have never talked about the ‘ _ M _ ’ word, and it would make zero sense that it’s something on Dean’s mind  _ now, _ of all times.

Except that when he opens the box, the ring he sees is brand new. It’s a fairly simple silver band, featuring some tiny blue stones along its outer surface and an engraving on the inside. Furrowing his brows, he leans in and squints in an attempt to identify the numbers. 

It’s a date. Three days from now, just eight years ago. Unmistakably, a nod to the moment in time, when the two of them met each other. In fact, it’s not just the ring, but the  _ color  _ and the initials on the box, and every choice regarding this piece...there’s no way of mistaking it for anything else but what it is. 

The sound of water being turned off in the bathroom and Dean’s heavy footsteps heading his way snap Cas back into the alertness. He feels a sharp, cold current run through his body, anchoring him to the spot. It’s a surprise that he manages to close the box in time and return it to its prior position, before Dean’s in the room with him, wiping the remaining droplets of water from his chin with one of those cheap IKEA towels he insisted they buy. 

“Did ya find it?” Dean asks, completely oblivious to the fact that Castiel’s world has just been shifted upside down. 

And Cas - he feels like a deer caught in headlights. For a brief moment, he’s incapable of uttering a single word, or making his limbs move as he stares straight ahead in futile attempt at making himself behave as normal as possible. 

“What?” Cas finally manages and Dean slowly quirks his left brow up.

“Your pocket square, have you managed to find it?” Dean repeats, the furrow of his brows emulating wariness and concern.

“I-...um, no, I got distracted - there was a message, from Charlie, on the phone and I just…”

Increasingly suspicious, Dean nods at him slowly, dragging out a skeptic ‘ _ mhm’ _ all while looking at Cas like he’d completely lost his mind. He starts heading towards the wardrobe, his gaze lingering, and Cas thinks he’s having an out of body experience watching this thing,  _ this plot, _ unravel upon him from a bird’s-eye-view. 

“You  _ do _ know you left your phone on the sink after you woke up, right?” Dean glances back at Cas, taking turns from rummaging through the clothing items on the racks to calling him out on the blatant lie. He lifts his chin up, as though to peek over Cas’s tense shoulders and inspect for whatever might be there, making him behave weird, but there seems to be nothing suspicious besides Cas himself. 

Cas must’ve forgotten to answer, or even pay attention to his surroundings, because suddenly Dean’s right there, handing him the pocket square he’s been looking for and looking at him with those inquisitive and worried green eyes of his. “Cas?” 

“Sorry.” he responds almost instinctively, blinking rapidly as he shakes himself out of the stupor. He doesn’t want -  _ can’t have _ Dean thinking he’s hiding something. “I just remembered it and-...” He begins, just about to reach for the pocket square, but Dean’s already taken the initiative of tucking it neatly into his suit. Regardless of them being together for so long now, having Dean’s hands on him still makes him weaker in the knees. “-I think the lack of sleep is finally getting to me.” he muses miserably. “Nothing a weekend getaway wouldn’t solve.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean huffs out a soft laugh. When he gives Cas a light pat right against his heart, before reaching for his neck to pull him in for a chaste kiss, Castiel wonders if it is a conscious decision that Dean has made to ignore what a shitty explanation that was. 

He feels Dean linger and inhale a lungful of air against his lips, to which Cas’s shoulders respond by sagging down. He allows himself, right there and then, to bask in the bliss of being held like he’s the most prized possession that Dean owns. 

It is on their own accord that Cas’s hands slide around Dean’s waist to draw him closer in, and his breathing shifts into something deeper. He can’t help but lick at the seam of Dean’s lips in a plea to take things further, and he feels Dean’s fingers travel further back to curl up into the locks of Cas’s hair for a gentle tug. Both of them may be on a slippery slope to their forties but he’s already half-way hard in response to that. 

A small, guttural moan escapes Dean’s throat as he bucks his hips against Cas’s, but Cas somehow manages to pull back and whisper: “Dean, we can’t be late to this.” against his parted lips. This elicits a grunt of discontent from Dean, but he knows Cas is right. 

“Later?” Dean croaks out, nudging the tip of his nose against Cas’s, his eyes still closed as he feels Cas nod in response. 

“Later.”

Somehow, he manages to untangle himself from Dean, and it’s in Herculean effort that he does that. It  _ really is,  _ because Dean looks positively delectable in that suit, with his hair slightly disheveled, mouth swollen and pupils dilated.

_ Oh, how he’s ever survived without the sight. _

“I called the Uber for myself.” Dean swallows, unable to take his eyes off Cas just yet, and there’s something otherworldly about being the center of Dean’s attention and how he gives himself over wholly to those he cares about. He sees Dean reaching for the back of his suit pants, only to pull out the keys to the Impala and hand them to Cas. “I figured you’d need some extra minutes to get ready, but I have to get there early.”

It’s not the first time Dean has let him take Baby, but Cas knows the worth of the gesture when it comes from someone as highly sentimental of a person as Dean is. He wants to,  _ needs to, _ take time to recognize the trust bestowed upon him.

“Thank you, Dean.” Cas all but beams, pressing his lips together in an attempt to take reign over his growing smile, for he does not want to make Dean uncomfortable.

“Yeah yeah, whatever.” Dean says, clearing his throat and rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to downplay the gesture. “You take good care of her and drive safe, yeah?” 

“Yeah. Yes.” Cas rushes out, and he feels like a giddy adolescent when Dean’s lips press against his forehead one last time before he heads outside.

“I love you.” Cas shouts out after him, thinking  _ \- yes,  _ a thousand times yes. It’s not as though he could ever say anything but yes to whatever Dean asks of him. 

* * *

**Dean [2:30 pm]:** _hey, just checking if u r gonna be on time for the furniture delivery_

Unlike Dean’s, Castiel’s experience with dating isn't as vast. 

First, there was Inias. He was older, capable of and willing to show Cas the ropes of pretty much anything. Cas looked up to him and followed him blindly, willingly ignoring whatever red flags might have been right before his eyes. Painfully aware of the experience he lacked as compared to Inias, who was Cas to argue with whatever someone as charming, intelligent and successful as him might suggest? It was imperative of him to stay silent and follow the lead if he wanted Inias to stay, and for that, he was always well rewarded. 

That is until he wasn’t. 

Then, there was Hannah. She was beautiful, but  _ lost.  _ Uncertain of who she wanted to be or where she was heading. As the youngest of his siblings and someone who’d always used others as a crutch to propel himself into independence, Cas was finally happy to be of use and guidance to another person. That was likely the sole reason why he’d even entertained the idea of being in a relationship with Hannah. He didn’t really love her, and it’s not like she ever stood a chance, but she was kind and good for his ego. 

And then there’s Dean. He was different from the get go. Utterly selfless (both in and out of sheets), completely vulnerable and wildly persistent. Unlike Inias, who was vocal about the things he didn’t want Castiel doing, Dean’s always been simultaneously supportive of whatever Cas is passionate about, and just as open, honest and confident about things he wants out of him as a partner. At Castiel’s lowest, Dean was comfortable with taking the lead in their relationship and taking care of him, but just as ready to step down the very second Castiel would become uncomfortable with the imbalance in their dynamics. He’s not prideful, and while he does have enough insecurities floating around for the both of them, Dean acknowledges them and readily accepts suggestions of both his loved ones and paid professionals on things he should work on and the ways he should do it. 

Being in a relationship with someone as reliant and self-reflective as Dean has been inspiring, immensely gratifying and likely the easiest thing Cas has ever done. What he likes about them is that they’re two individuals, with their own friends, dreams and ambitions. Perfectly content on their own, but aware that their lives are better for having the other in it. Dean is the first person Cas thinks of when wanting to confide in someone, and he's the last one to cross his mind before drifting asleep. 

Being loved by Dean means being someone’s priority and someone’s forever. It’sthe kind of promise of security and structure for which Cas needed time, and some trial and error to accept being worthy of. 

One thing Castiel  _ is _ proficient at, is all the shades and nuances of Dean Winchester. For nearly a decade, he’s been a devoted student of Dean’s acts of service as his language of love, but also of Dean’s language of fear, worry, doubt, hurt and insecurity. Which is why nowadays, as lazy as he is to respond to his friend’s texts for hours or even days at a time, Cas rarely takes longer than a minute to text Dean back.

**Cas [2:31]:** _Of course, Dean. Why wouldn’t I?_

It’s a stupid question of him to ask, which Cas realizes as soon as he hits send. It wouldn’t be the first time something,  _ or someone, _ had gotten in the way of Castiel keeping his promise to Dean. It’s likely why Dean had texted in the first place. 

**Dean [2:40]** :  _ idk, just making sure. _

10 minutes for that message. Cas can already imagine Dean mirroring him for the past ten minutes, staring at his cellphone, trying to come up with an effortless sounding response while sitting on their yellow sofa. He’s probably feeling silly for having even asked and scolding himself for needing the reassurance. Cas hates that he’s contributed to this insecurity of Dean’s. 

Drawing in a deep breath, he takes time to carefully craft his response.

**Cas [2:47]:** _ I explained to Michael that I am needed at home. He said I could leave early. I made a promise and I intend to keep it.  _

Initially, he added ‘this time around’ at the end of the message, but ultimately opts to leave it out. 

Cas is no fool. He knows time will need to pass and he’ll need to prove himself for those words to carry weight, but despite everything  _ Dean wants to marry him _ , and Cas is in it for the long haul. God, is he in it. Spending the rest of his life loving Dean is all he’s been able to think about for the past two months. 

**Deam [2:48]** :  _ sweet :) _

And sweet their life becomes. 

Even the most mundane things and chores feel exhilarating, and Cas finds himself floating on air 24/7 for the next few weeks. He simultaneously spends all of his free time in his head, imagining all the ways Dean might propose to him, and completely present in the moment in a way that he’s never been before.

Just the other day, he got distracted by Dean’s calloused fingers sanding their dining table, and couldn’t help but fawn over how capable Dean is. One of these days, there will be a matching silver band on one of those fingers and Cas will be ridden of his cursed surname as the two of them begin building their future together. 

There’s a change in his mind, too. All of a sudden, Cas is randomly compelled to do stuff like sort books alphabetically on the shelves, and Dean’s right there, eyeing him suspiciously and asking: “What the hell is happening here?”, like it’s the weirdest sight he’s ever seen in his entire life. 

“I know that’s how you like them. Thought I could do this one thing, since you’ve been carrying most of the heavy load.” Cas responds, and he actually beams, thrilled that he gets to contribute in these small but undeniably meaningful ways to their home. 

“You’ve done so much more than ‘this one thing’, sweetheart.” Dean corrects him, walking over from where he’s leaning against the doorway to their bedroom. Within seconds, there are strong arms enveloping him from behind, and Cas allows himself to melt into Dean’s embrace. He feels a hint of stubble as Dean presses a gentle kiss against his jaw and murmurs against his ear: “Thank you. None of this would happen if it hadn’t been for you.” 

Over the course of the next few days, Cas can be seen burning eggs in attempts to bring Dean breakfast in bed. Or ironing his own suit on Friday, even though he’s not set to wear it ‘till Monday at least, which is truly a sight to behold considering that he hasn’t ironed a single item of their clothes in the past, well, probably eight years of them being together. 

Instead of working overtime as he tends to, he makes an effort to come home as soon as his working hours end, and he brings along stuff like board games, puzzles and cards, suddenly interested in indoor dates and actually staying awake through movies that Dean insists he watches. 

“Who are you and what have you done to Cas?” Dean eventually asks, and Cas hooks his arms around Dean’s neck, gets up on his tippy toes and sighs in content upon kissing his lovely face. 

“I’m just happy we’re finally living together.” he says. “ _ You _ make me very happy.”

At this point, he doesn’t even care if Dean has planned something romantic, or huge. Or if he remembered that one time when Cas got drunk during a party they hosted, and said he’d like for all of his friends to be involved in the proposal. For all he cares, they could be scrubbing the toilet and Dean could say:  _ “You’re the only person with whom I want to fight grime with for the rest of my life” _ and Cas would be over the moon. 

God, he loves Dean so much he can barely breathe.

The paper won’t change a thing between them, Cas knows as much. Two of them are already practically married. Hell, they even got a cat now after Castiel’s insistent pleas, ‘cause Dean wouldn’t budge on his no-canine policy. 

“I swear, it’s like having a baby. The last time I took an hour to fall asleep and kept waking up dozens of times throughout the night was back in college.” Dean huffs. 

“Booze vertigo?” Cas asks, taking time to wipe each individual plate before moving them from the sink into the cupboards. 

Dean doesn’t reference his twenties often, and Cas understands that John’s behavior during that period has something to do with that, but he knows Dean’s had a complicated relationship with liquor. Cas has tried tiptoeing around it, assuming that Dean wouldn’t want to be reminded of it now that he’s been sober for years, but Dean insisted pretending that it didn’t happen made him feel like he’s some fragile china doll that Cas is just waiting to break at the slightest pressure. 

“Nah. Sophomore year, I used to live in this tiny ass apartment next to the busiest street in the city. The traffic was wild, and when it wasn’t, the neighbours filled in. Not to mention that I was sleeping on a broken pull-out sofa that I swear had left me with a permanent rib ache.” Dean shares, rubbing the spot left below his ribcage.

“How many hours have you spent googling ‘left side, below ribcage pain’?” Cas pokes fun at Dean’s hypochondria, aware that he’ll never understand his obsession with health and fear of getting ill. Still, the last thing he wants to do is invalidate Dean’s concerns. 

Thankfully, Dean doesn’t find the remark insensitive, if his snort is anything to go by. “Way too many, angel.  _ Way _ too many.” 

With a tender smile, Castiel glances behind his shoulder at the feline sleeping soundly on the couch. “Well, for what it’s worth, it seems like he’s finally going to give us a couple of hours of peace and quiet.” 

“Yeah-” Dean takes a brief look behind him as well, before going on to finish washing the last of the coffee stained mugs and handing them over to Cas. “-and I figured we could use it to make an itinerary, after we’re done with the kitchen.” Dean suggests, and shifts from one foot to another before stealing a subtle glance at Cas, waiting for his reaction.

“Hm?” Itinerary? Did Cas miss something?

“I just thought...maybe we could go on a little road trip next weekend? Maybe to Arizona, to see the Grand Canyon.” Dean continued in an attempted nonchalance. 

A couple of months ago, Cas expressed a desire to see the Grand Canyon, but between them buying this place, losing half of their income right after and Cas moving to another state for a project, they barely had time, energy and means to see each other, let alone afford to plan a vacation. 

But things are better now. Calmer. And Dean remembered. 

It couldn’t have been random, either, with the weekend getaway idea Cas had thrown his way not so long ago. Dean must have thought this through and taken the time to plan it all out, for Cas. 

This had to be  _ it.  _ It made all the sense in the world, with the way Dean’s been behaving recently and everything that’s been leading up to this moment. 

They are in a good place and Cas has never been more certain in something in his entire life. 

“Are you sure you can take the time off?” he asks, trying not to sound too excited.

But it must be the wrong thing to ask. Because for all the effort Dean puts into controlling his expressions and reactions, the way he rolls his shoulders back, and straightens up as though he’s suffered a reprimand, is a tell-tale sign to Cas that he’s hit a sore spot.

“I wouldn’t be losing any money.” Dean’s quick to reassure. “Benny said we’re getting collective days off, so it’s a paid vacation. So yeah, It won’t affect our income, don’t worry.” 

Castiel’s expression softens and he feels a sudden pang of guilt for not having been more careful with his wording. 

“Dean, that is not why I asked.” He puts the rag down onto the kitchen counter, aligning his body to face Dean. As he reaches out to place his hand upon Dean’s own, his gaze ever compassionate, he half expects for Dean to pull back, but it never happens. He’s thankful for that. “I simply meant that I didn’t want you to be inconvenienced, ‘cause I know things are crazy at the office right now and I’m perfectly content with us staying at home.” 

“I know you are.” Dean interrupts, but Cas swears he can hear the subtle remnants of doubt in his voice. He aches to close whatever distance exists between them and pull Dean into his embrace. Cas wants to tell him that he’s happiest he’s ever been, and that they could be living on the streets, and he still wouldn’t care as long as they’re together. But he doesn’t, because as though Dean can read minds and sense the possible route down which Cas might take this conversation, he continues with conviction. “I  _ do _ . But we need this. Both of us. And you deserve this.” 

Dean’s thumb is tracing gentle patterns against Cas’s own before giving him a squeeze, all while never breaking eye contact. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. Quieter in the admission. 

“We haven’t even celebrated your birthday together and I wanted to make up for that.” 

_ ‘To make up for the time we lost _ ’ goes unsaid, but Cas knows what Dean means. Those six months were the longest in Castiel’s life and after everything’s unraveled, from this perspective they seem even longer. All that time wasted on believing that he’d ultimately get a permanent position in New York and they’d move there together, with Dean mentally unfit and financially unable to travel and see him in the meantime, and Cas unable to get any time off to return to LA. All of that just to learn that it was all a part of a ruse with the goal of keeping them apart, and one that he’d almost made possible. 

Ultimately, Cas agrees and decides not to open the can of worms Dean had so expertly deflected from. It’s not like there’s much to it that they haven’t already thoroughly discussed, anyway. 

Instead, he spends the week focusing on planning the trip, and leaving a trail of dozens of sticky notes around the place so he doesn’t forget to pack something. 

Dean finds it extremely entertaining, certain that he’s gonna be the one who does all the packing in the end. To his surprise, when the day comes he actually finds Cas up early, sitting on the floor with laptop to his right and a blue vest on his lap as he watches a tutorial on how to fold clothes to make them fit in a suitcase. 

“I really don’t mind doing it myself, you know.” Dean offers, and he’s inspecting the room to make sure all of the electronics are unplugged from the sockets before they leave. 

At this point, he knows that  _ something’s  _ up with Cas, he’s just not sure what. It has to be in some way connected to them moving in, he thinks. Dean has a theory it’s because this is the first place Cas has ever owned, which would explain all this extra effort Cas is putting in keeping it orderly, and clean, and making himself engaged in every household chore, despite knowing that Dean doesn’t mind being in charge of that himself. 

It’s not like Dean chose Cas for his domestic housewife qualities, and both of them know that. Fairly early in their relationship, when he first visited Cas’s place, Dean learned that he’s...well, for the lack of better word, a slob. It’s not that Cas is unhygienic, but he likes having all of his stuff at hand and easy to reach, and Dean’s alright with that. 

Over the course of years leading up to meeting Cas, Dean has learned that taking time to clean, cook, tinker, garden and generally work around the house serves as an effective technique in managing his anxiety, so he likes - prefers even to be the one taking over said chores. 

“I know.” Cas smiles. “I just wanted to do it myself.” Wanting to accommodate Dean, he briskly adds: “If you’d rather do it, though-”

“No, no. You go on and do your thing, you adorable dork.” Dean chuckles in a soft expression of joy, and Cas thinks he’s hit the jackpot, ‘cause for the rest of their lives, he’ll get to count and trace the smiling wrinkles around Dean’s eyes. 

He sees Dean disappear out of his sight as he walks over to the TV, where his prescription pills storage box is. Cas can hear the shuffling of papers and blister packs in the background, and his pulse starts racing as he attempts to take a peek at what Dean’s doing behind him. He can see his boyfriend pull something out of the box and place it in the inner pocket of his coat, before Dean looks aside and catches Cas snooping on him.

“ _ Hey!  _ Look away, you.” Dean’s pitch rises in protest and he pulls inwards at the seams of his coat as to hide something. 

“What are you hiding from me?” Cas squints at him, light and humorous in his suspicion. After all this is over, he should get an Oscar for acting like he’s oblivious to Dean’s intentions. 

“That’s none of your concern.” Dean responds just as lightly, quick to add a mischievous: “For now.”

Cas’s brows jump up on his forehead, challenging. “Oh  _ really? _ ”

“Yes, really.” Dean repeats with a smile. “It’s just a small, belated birthday gift.” he admits somewhat timidly. 

“I am sure I will love whatever it is, Dean.” How could he not?  _ He’s gonna be someone’s fiance. Someone’s husband.  _

No, not someone’s. Dean’s. He’ll be recognized as Dean’s, in the eyes of God and the government.

“Well, you better, ‘cause you’re impossible to shop for and even worse to surprise.”

“Hey! That’s not-”

“You snoop, all the time! I can’t hide a damn thing from you, Cas.” Dean interrupts.

And  _ yeah,  _ Dean has a point. No witty comebacks there. 

“Come on, let me help you out with that, so we can get there before the night falls.” 

Dean walks over to him and makes himself comfortable on the floor, right next to Cas. The two of them work on folding the rest of the clothes and sorting it into the suitcase.

Cas scoots over so their shoulders are touching. He almost bursts like a supernova. 

* * *

Cas is going to need a vacation from their vacation. 

He quickly learns that Dean indeed planned this trip thoroughly, way before asking Castiel for input. He chooses the longest driving route, claiming that it makes sense considering all the activities he’d prepaid for two of them, but Cas is pretty sure Dean’s desire to drive down Route 66 is at least seventy percent of the reason. The remaining thirty percent is justified by the guided horseback ride he’s arranged on a ‘random trail’ because ‘he knows how much Cas loves horses’, and not at all because Dean’s got a cowboy fantasy for which he ‘absolutely did not bring a cowboy outfit to the trip, but his clothes accidentally ended up looking like one’.

For all the eye rolls he gives to Dean, Cas actually finds immense joy in seeing his childlike enthusiasm and unbridled joy upon performing these activities, and he doubles the reward later that night by wearing Dean’s not-a-cowboy-outfit himself. 

Tomorrow morning, he ropes Dean into taking a yoga class at one of Sedona’s red rock vortexes. Dean grumbles initially about having to do it, but Cas sees him going lax and eventually ends up on the receiving end of a soft ‘thank you’ for talking Dean into it after a long day of riding. 

They see the Grand Canyon and Cas ends up being distracted by the view for long enough that he forgets to remind Dean about the sunscreen. By the end of the day, he’s the one who ends up being sunburned and Dean has just flawlessly tanned in a way that accentuates his freckles even more. As he goes on to daydream about mapping the constellations out of them for the rest of their hike, Cas deduces that Grand Canyon has nothing on the religious experience that is Dean. 

For the entirety of the trip, he feels the way Anna describes those days in a month. The somewhat pleasant ache in his calves has nothing on the way he feels strung out emotionally. Dean’s brightness leaves him yearning, and he uses every opportunity to touch him, kiss him, stare at him and parrot countless  _ i love you’s  _ at Dean. Each time, Dean beams as though it's the first time he’s been served such pleasantries, never annoyed by them and always taking time to sweet talk Cas in return. 

By the time they reach the cottage rental of Dean’s choice, Cas’s veins are on fire. He feels like their entire trip has been leading up to whatever’s about to come and Dean’s steadiness only adds fuel to the existing flame. 

He’d imagined Dean’s facade would drop as soon as they cross the porch, and the undeniable passion they’d nurtured throughout the weekend would come to fruition in a form two of them slamming each other into the nearest surfaces, and tearing at one another’s clothes. 

Dean seems to have something else in mind, though, because he nips Castiel’s eagerness in the bud as soon as their mouths collide, and diffuses the tension by refusing to deepen the kiss.

“No.” he whispers. “I want to take my time taking you apart, and I want you to let me.” 

The shiver that runs through Castiel’s body right there and then doesn’t compare to the range of emotions which end up overwhelming him throughout the rest of the night. Dean worships his body limb by limb, inch by inch, in ways that leave Castiel feeling completely stripped of all his defences.

He's able to commit a hint of stubble to his memory, and Dean's tongue leaving a wet trail along his pulse point before mouthing against the sensitive hollow of his neck. There are ghost-like touches, fervent rocking of their bodies against each other, and a lot of Dean saying "I got you" before he propels Cas straight into delirium.

And when Dean’s done with him, he isn’t really. 

“Fuck.” Dean curses out, incapable of looking anywhere but straight into Castiel’s eyes. The two of them are laying on their sides, facing each other, sweaty and still trying to catch their breaths, with Cas tucked right against Dean’s chest and able to feel his thundering heartbeat. “You are...beyond perfect.” 

It’s not the first time Dean has said something so cheesy to him, but Cas feels restless in his need to further cocoon himself in Dean’s embrace and hide the blooming redness creeping up on his face. “Shut up.” he mumbles out, uncomfortable under the weight of Dean’s words.

“I can’t.” Dean insists. “You are.” The arm he’s got thrown around Cas migrates down the bare expanse of his back, right across his hip and then up to find Cas’s hand. 

He entwines their fingers before bringing them up to his lips, taking time to press a lingering kiss against each and every one of Castiel’s knuckles. The torturous turmoil Cas feels pooling low in his belly can best be described as some sort of instinct, or a precognition. With the way his fingertips buzz moments after Dean has moved on from one to another, and how Cas remains conscious of his pulse in those spots, he knows that something’s coming. 

He just knows.

“Cas-” Dean begins, but seems lost for words. 

Cas swallows, unable to speak himself, but in his mind he thinks ‘ _ Dean’  _ and waits _.  _

He thinks how he’ll remember this place for the rest of his life. The emerald green, decorative candles, smelling strongly of Dean’s apple pie. The chai lattes, heavily spiced with cardamom, served to them instead of hard liquor, because if Dean isn’t drinking, neither is Cas. The Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Simple Man’ vinyl playing on the gramophone, akin to the one Dean had bought Sam with his first salary, because it was their favorite song to sing along to whenever John took them on a road trip. The pretty carving on the bed frame, which Dean had promised to replicate for their own bedroom, assuring Cas they don’t need to pay for anyone else to do it, ‘cause he’s done something similar to a crib that he gifted to Jess after finding out she’s pregnant. 

Dean untangles their hands for a moment, shifting on the bed to reach for something behind himself. Cas can hear him open one of the drawers of the bedside table, and before he knows it, Dean’s returning to his initial position with a small, elegant box in his hand. 

“Dean.” he breathes out, outloud this time. 

“You’re the love of my life, Cas.” Dean begins, and Cas does not mean to interrupt, but he feels like it’s crucial he assures that the sentiment is shared.

“As you are mine.”

This tugs at corners of Dean’s lips in a slow, controlled manner until he’s beaming like a lighthouse in the middle of the ocean, and Cas is left blinded by his radiance.

Dean’s already opening the box to display its contents to Cas, and Cas manages to miss entirely that the box is velvet red and different from the one he’d seen back at the apartment. 

It is when he lays his eyes on the ring, that he realizes that - it  _ is _ a ring...but not the one he’s seen. 

He feels his stomach drop. 

“I know you don’t like to wear rings, but I figured you could put this one on your necklace and have it with you when we’re apart.” Dean explains, reading Castiel’s stupor as confusion.. “It’s a promise ring. A reminder that I’ll always be here, and I’ll always be  _ yours,  _ no matter where you are.” 

A promise ring. Not a…. _ it’s a promise ring.  _

For what seems like an eternity, Cas feels nothing. And then he feels all at once. Terrible grief washes over him and he feels like someone had just ripped his heart straight out of his chest. Actually, he feels like someone who’s just woken up after having been in a car crash - and having been in one himself, years ago, Cas feels competent enough to make the comparison. 

Dean takes notice, because his expression contorts into one of concern. “Cas?” he reaches for his hand, and Cas nearly recoils. Dean must’ve felt the reflex beneath his touch, because he asks: “Are you okay? Do you not like it? ‘Cause it’s alright if you don’t, I know this is not your thing and I saved the receipt just in case you’d rather get something else and-”

“No.” Cas somehow manages to blurt out, his Dean-instincts kicking in. He feels responsible for putting a stop to Dean’s spiralling rant. “No, it’s…” he can’t look at that ring, and he can’t look away, so he settles for looking up at Dean, but ends up seeing straight through him. “The ring is lovely. Thank you, Dean.” 

He has no idea how he manages to get those words out. Can’t even remember how he got here, where this moment began or what Dean had initially said to him. It’s a testament to how struck he is, that he can’t even attempt to mask his disappointment. 

“You don’t have to-” Dean starts again, but Cas leans in to cut him off with a kiss. He feels like he can’t possibly draw enough air into his lungs to keep himself afloat, and yet the unconsciousness doesn’t come as a savior from the shame he feels settling deep into his bones. 

“Thank you for thinking of me.” he whispers, because it’s not like Dean’s done anything wrong. He’s called Cas the love of his life, and said that he’d always be Castiel’s, no matter what. 

“I always think of you.” Dean murmurs and presses his forehead against Cas’s. “I don’t know if you noticed, but you’re kind of it for me, Cas.” 

Then why did you change your mind, Cas thinks. 

_ Why  _ don’t you want to marry me anymore?

* * *

Monday morning, they’re back to LA and life goes on. Dean still murmurs a drowsy “good morning, love” into his neck before Cas is off to work first, and nothing has really changed. Except the fact that Cas is now living a life of someone who’s not going to marry Dean.

He doesn’t remember the entirety of the ride to the office, even though there isn’t a single distracting thought in his head. He stops by Charlie’s cafe and orders his regular, only to have it cool down before he even begins to drink it. He pays and leaves sooner than unusual, without having even taken out the daily newspaper he’d picked up for the sudoku. Later, Charlie messages him to check if everything’s okay and Cas sees the message pop up on his screen, but he forgets to respond.

As if by fate, it’s the slowest damn day at work and his coworkers are particularly chatty today, insistent on details of his weekend trip. Cas goes on to give them a brief recap, and it feels much like going through the motions when he does. It’s like talking about a trip that he’s heard had happened to someone else but him. Meg remarks how nauseating cheesy and utterly ridiculous it is that Dean has given Cas a promise ring, like they’re two innocent twelve year old girls, but later when they’re out of the crowd and alone in the elevator, she tells him she’s happy he’s found someone like Dean and that the ring is beautiful. 

Cas hates it. He hates all of it.

And when he comes home, Dean’s just as lovely as ever. There are dark bags under his eyes that Cas wants to smooth out, and he’s using his knuckles to press at the spot at the low of his spine. Cas knows the pain bothers him periodically, particularly on the busy work days that require a lot of standing, and yet Dean’s in the kitchen, making a meal for both of them. 

That makes him feel,  _ if possible,  _ even worse, because he’s now sure - more than ever - that this is the man he wants to spend the rest of his life with. 

And Dean’s sure of quite the opposite.

That night, Cas pours himself a glass of whiskey out of the bottle that they must’ve had for years and have left unopened. For the next two days, he indulges in a couple of more drinks throughout the day before Dean, who’s usually attuned to other people’s feelings, decides he’s pretended enough not to have noticed a shift in Castiel’s demeanor. 

It takes Dean exactly three days to confront Cas, which is longer than his cowardly self believed he’d get from someone as assertive as Dean, who likes to face things head on. 

“Alright, what’s going on?” Dean finally speaks up after he’s back from work, only to find Cas sitting on one of the stools by their kitchen bar counter, drinking and staring at nothing in particular on the wall. 

Carefully, Cas lowers the glass down on the counter and turns to look at Dean. Feigning surprise at the sudden outburst, Cas plays dumb and replies “What do you mean?”. He knows Dean well enough to know that this conversation will play out exactly how Dean has intended it to, because once Dean initiates a confrontation, he doesn’t stop until he sees his way through it. What Cas is left with and determined to do is delay the inevitable for a couple of minutes, at least.

Dean’s not about that life, though. “You’ve been acting off ever since we came back from the trip.” he cuts right to the chase. “Actually, no. You’ve been off for longer than that, but it’s ever since I poured my heart out to you in that cabin, and gave you that ring, that you’ve completely distanced yourself from me.”

_ And woah,  _ Dean’s really not holding back. 

Cas can feel his pulse rising immediately in response, because he’s someone who’d much rather let this thing resolve itself on its own, with enough time and sufficient distractions. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean. I’m just being myself.” Cas responds calmly, to which Dean’s eyebrows go up and his neck tilts back slightly. 

“Oh really? So ‘yourself’ day drinks regularly now? Good to know.” 

“I’m sorry, Dean. I didn’t realize my drinking upsets you so much.” Hearing just how formal he sounds, and catching up with why Dean might have an issue with this particular behavior, Cas hurries to add: “I’ll stop. It wasn’t my intention to bring alcohol back into your life. That was thoughtless and insensitive of me.”

“Oh, screw that, Cas. You’re not tempting me into self-destruction or whatever, this is not about me  _ or _ the liquor.” Dean counters and goes on to remove his coat, and put it on the hanger along with his briefcase. Cas uses the moment to draw in a sharp breath through his nostrils and collect himself. He puts the empty hand down on his knee and digs his fingertips into the flesh, through the fabric. 

With Dean back in sight, Cas scrambles to say something,  _ anything  _ but Dean’s expression softens and he runs a hand through his hair in a tell-tale sign to Cas that he’s feeling lost and powerless here. 

_ You and me both,  _ he thinks.

“Come on. I thought we were past this passive aggressive bullshit.” he pleads and Cas suddenly feels the need to defend himself.

“I’m not being passive aggressive. I told you nothing’s wrong. What do you want from me? To make something up just so you’d feel better?” he snaps. “Why can’t you trust that I’m telling you the truth?” 

“P _ lease. _ ” Dean huffs sardonically. “Give me some credit. I’ve seen you at your worst and I know how you act when you’re hurt.” 

Cas can see Dean’s jaw clench and his hand tremble in distress as Dean digs nails into the flesh of his palm. He wants to reach out for him and apologize for making him hurt along, and yet he can’t begin to offer Dean comfort when he’s in dire need of one himself.

“I know I’ve done _ something _ to hurt you, and I just want you to be honest with me about what that is, so I can start working on fixing whatever I broke.” he swallows, and Cas mimics the gesture before breaking the eye contact first, unable to breathe under the sheer intensity of Dean’s pained gaze on him. 

Dean has no business looking like that. He hasn’t broken anything, has only ever loved Cas in a way that Cas has never even loved himself. This - all of this could’ve been avoided. It was  _ his  _ fault. 

“Cas, please say something.” Dean’s voice comes off as small and vulnerable, and Cas is looking down at his lap, suddenly aware of the weight of the ring around his neck. He averts his gaze towards the piece of silver for a mere second, but a mere second is all it takes for Dean to realize what’s bothering him. 

“What is it about that ring that you hate so much?”

“I don’t.” Cas responds all too quickly.

Dean’s mouth opens as though he’s about to say something just as reflexively, but he stops himself. He looks like there are some serious gears shifting in his head, and Cas knows he’s weighing his words carefully before they leave his mouth.

“Cas, man - I need you to tell me what’s going on, ‘cause I’m freaking out here.” he pleads. “My head’s been making up all of these scary scenarios for the past three days, just so I could explain to myself why you’ve been different. And now, I’m starting to see connections in between your behavior and my sudden outbursts of love. And it’s making me question if all the progress we’ve made is because you’re overcompensating for something, or if the reason for you brushing away all of my attempts at getting closer to you is ‘cause you feel guilty for something and….” Dean finally stops and Cas can tell the dam’s just about to break. He’s starting to see where Dean’s trail of thoughts is heading and that he’s been reading the situation completely wrong, because Cas has left him without enough information to work off of. And Cas knows what that feels like _.  _ That lack of information is the exact kind of thing that had almost broken them apart not long ago. 

“I didn’t cheat on you in New York, Dean - if that’s what you’re afraid of. I’m not overcompensating, or feeling guilty for anything, or whatever...I’m simply in love with you. Every day, when I wake up, I think about how lucky I am to have you, and how I don’t want you to go on with your day, thinking even for a moment that you’re not  _ everything  _ to me.” he stresses. 

“Then why-...” Dean’s breathing hitches. “Why are you keeping me at a distance, and looking at me like I’m…” his hands go up in the air to gesture wildly, and he grapples for words to explain how he’s been feeling ever since they came back from Arizona. “Like I’m your biggest enemy.” he settles for, and it’s a bit rough for what he thinks, but he’s past being able to formulate his thoughts concisely. “You are everything to me, too. I told you you’re It for me, Cas and-”

“Then why don’t you want to marry me?” he spurts out, and as soon as the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. He feels dreadful shame wash over him, and when he looks over at Dean, he sees him looking like he feels just as horrible. And twice as confused.

“What are you talking about?” There’s a look of despair on Dean’s face, if Cas has ever seen one, and he wishes someone would just rip his heart out of his chest, ‘cause that would be less painful than having to do this. But that’s not gonna happen, and he’s already scratched the surface, so the only way he can head now is forward. 

“I saw the ring, Dean. The one in your prescription pills box, that you must’ve gotten embellished with my eyes in mind, and the initials carved with the idea of me taking on your last name in the future. The ring that you must’ve intended to propose to me with.” Cas rushes out, and his voice falters at the end. He feels helpless, chained to the stool and unable to move, because this is it - it’s all right there, out in the open, and Dean’s for taking.

And Dean is...he’s crossing his arms defensively in front of his chest, his features turning stoic and expressionless, and Cas sees him retreating back into himself in a way that he hasn’t since the early months of their relationship. It’s like he’s watching all the hard work they’ve put into growing as a unit wither and they’re back to square one. 

_ This is when he leaves,  _ Cas is certain,  _ this is when Dean’s had enough of his crap _ . And to think that just days ago he believed two of them would be getting married…

“I wish you’d told me you found that ring.” Dean finally says, after a prolonged moment of silence.

“Why?” Cas sniffles. “To force you to do something you obviously don’t want to do?”

“That’s not true.” Dean interrupts. “Whatever you’re thinking right now, it’s not-...don’t assume you know what I want, or don’t want to do, better than I do. I’ve known I wanted to marry you within months of knowing you.”

Cas lets out a pathetic huff, a bleak smile contorting his lips. “You don’t have to say that, Dean.”

“What? You think I’m saying this out of pity?” He lowers his arms down and considers cutting the distance between them short, but the way Cas is sitting straight up, and leaning slightly back and away from Dean, is telling him he’d rather have the space to deal with this. So Dean stays where he is. “Cas, Charlie helped me buy the ring almost a year ago.” 

And it’s something Cas could easily check, which is the exact reason why he thinks Dean isn’t lying about it, but it’d honestly just add to his mortification if he had to text their best friend, just to make sure of his boyfriend’s intentions towards him. 

“Then what changed?” he asks, and suddenly he feels so tired, and at least ten years older. He wishes for this conversation to end already.

“Nothing has changed.” Dean insists. “I love you now more than I’ve loved you eight, five, three years or even an hour ago. I love you more and more with every passing second-”

“Something doesn’t add up, then, Dean.” he interrupts again, feeling like he’s on a constant rollercoaster of emotions. It’s beyond stressful. “You’re saying all these things, and that you’ve been wanting to marry me for as long as you claim, and now all of a sudden you don’t and put together, none of it makes sense .” he tries to explain, and he knows Dean’s not dumb or lacking empathy. He  _ has  _ to see the way this is coming off to Cas, and what that must feel like.

“I never said I don’t.” It’s now Dean’s turn to snap back defensively. “All of that is still true.” he assures, but Cas sees the veil in between whatever Dean’s projecting and thinking growing thinner, ‘cause his composure is changing and he’s becoming less persuasive in his words. “I don’t see why it matters whether we’re married or not. We have a house,  _ a home  _ together and-”

“It matters to me, Dean.” Cas ultimately settles for, and he feels lighter for having said it. He feels some sort of resolve on the horizon, whatever that may bring. “You’re the one who pushed for this conversation to happen and I’m telling you now, this matters to me, so let’s…” he breathes in and finishes “...let’s talk.”

They both remain in their respective places, staring at each other, open and vulnerable, neither making an attempt to move or say anything for a couple of seconds. 

After a while, it’s Dean who starts talking first. 

“Okay.” he nods, quiet and pensive. He licks his lips and presses them tightly together, obviously in attempts to regain his composure and keep the tears at bay, ‘cause Cas can see his eyes getting glossy from all the pent up emotions. Dean looks like he has no idea what to do with his limbs and Cas feels grateful that he’s sat there, with so many objects around him serving as some sort of imaginary protective shield. Not that he thinks Dean would ever intentionally send harm his way. 

“It’s not like a year ago’s the first time I entertained the idea of a marriage with you. I know I have commitment issues, but even for me, that’d be ridiculous. Hell, it’d be ridiculous if you believed in that and still stayed in this relationship.” Dean begins, and he takes Castiel’s lack of interruption and his all around stance as a sign that Cas didn’t really doubt Dean’s resolve to spend the rest of his life with him. 

That is, until recently. And Dean can work with that. He’s done a lot to work on himself throughout these years. Has gone through therapy, and even defied his father after wasting the best years of his life catering to John’s every whim, and while he’s done that  _ for  _ himself, he’s done it  _ because  _ of Cas. 

“I could’ve asked you to marry me at any point in the past eight years, and it would have been the right thing, but I needed to deal with my own demons, and you’ve helped immensely with that - and then....” he throws an abortive shrug of his shoulder, ‘cause this is the crappiest part of his explanation “...the longer I waited, the harder it got to just ask. And then one day I woke up feeling good, and I knew it was the right time, and I’d started planning everything and then…” he stops.

“And then what?” Cas prompts, ridden of all patience now that he’s an arm’s length away from the answers to all of his insecurities.

“And then you left.” Dean admits, simple as that. 

And it shouldn’t come as a surprise, that  _ that’s  _ what this is about, ‘cause for all the lying Cas did to himself, he never actually bought into the lie that there wouldn’t be another shoe to drop in regards to ‘ _ The Fight _ ’. He did believe Dean, when he said he’d forgiven Cas, and that he wanted to move on, but he also knew it’d all be too good to be true if there weren’t some lingering hard feelings on Dean’s part. After all, two weeks were not enough time for two of them to work through all of their issues, and he should’ve trusted his gut that Dean’s claims of having gotten over everything so soon couldn’t have made sense. 

“So that’s why you changed your mind?” Cas asks calmly, and he tries to hide the hurt in his voice and not to sound bitter. “Because of the fight?” 

“You and I both know that wasn’t just a fight.” and before Cas can interrupt him, Dean goes on to explain. “I think we needed to pretend like it was, for a while. To process everything and allow ourselves to heal. But things have resurfaced during that conversation-...”

“Dean, I didn’t-...”

“-...that made me realize there are still matters you and I have to work on, individually as well, but more importantly together. And there are ways in which I should change, and grow, and treat you differently...” Dean continues, ignoring Castiel’s interruptions the first time around, but the second time around Cas beats him to it.

“I don't want you to treat me any different.” Cas interjects

“You should. You should hold me up to a higher standard.”

“The way you love me is the way I’ve been dreaming of being loved my whole life.” Cas ignores, his posture slouching to a degree, his back no longer at an angle creating further distance between the two of them. “I love you as you are,  _ right now.  _ And I know you’re not perfect, trust me I know, but that’s ‘cause you’re human - and so am I. And we’ll make mistakes  _ again,  _ both of us _.  _ But we’re two decent human beings who love each other and that should be enough.” 

“It should.” Dean agrees, and it’s the first thing they’ve agreed on outloud, throughout this entire conversation. Cas didn’t even realize how much he needed to have them find a mutual ground until he felt lighter for having heard it. “But it wasn’t.”

_ What? _

“When Crowley offered you the job, I told you not to take it. And I didn’t do it because I was afraid of staying alone, or us not making it through a short-term long-distance relationship, or because I was jealous that you were getting this awesome opportunity while I’d be sitting home, jobless and unsuccessful.” Dean is talking and Cas recognizes every single word he’d thrown Dean’s way during the fight, because he’d let Crowley get into his head. Even prior to this conversation, he’d understood to have reopened some old scars of Dean’s, by carelessly blabbering all that nonsense out in the heat of the moment, and to have also created some of the new insecurities in Dean’s head. It’s just that he didn’t realize those wounds ran as deep as Dean was allowing them to show right now. 

“I told you I didn’t mean any of that, Dean.”

“I know, but you said it. And I can’t pretend it didn’t affect me at all.” he admits, and goes on with his speech. “And although I’ve asked you to stay, because I knew that whole ordeal wouldn’t end well, because Crowley was just using you as a tool to get his revenge on me, you didn’t trust me. You didn’t trust  _ me. _ ” Dean emphasizes, and with each new word filling out the space between them, Cas feels his arsenal of arguments growing emptier for it. 

“I know I’ve made a mistake. It’s the biggest mistake of my life, and I’ll never forgive myself for it, Dean.” He doesn’t see it doing much good, but he still goes on to explain why he did what he did. “I should’ve trusted you, and I didn’t because you’ve given me partial information to work with. I’m not saying you’re responsible for my lousy choices, ‘cause you’re not. Only I am. I’m just saying, I thought you were wary of Crowley solely because he’d contributed to the demise of your office, and not because you two also had some sort of fucked up history that he’s bitter about, that you didn’t tell me about.”

Cas goes on to say: “I was prideful, and I thought I could handle him better than you did. And I thought it was a great opportunity. It was a lot of money that would give you a peace of mind, because I knew how concerned you were about the finances after we’d put down the deposit for this place and you became unemployed.” 

This is good, he thinks. Two of them laying all of their cards on the table. Dean’s still there, and Cas thinks he doesn’t look like he’s about to flee anywhere, anytime soon, so this must be doing  _ some  _ good. 

“I understand that.” Dean says, once given the opportunity. “And I get why you did it.” And Cas can tell it’s important for Dean to validate his feelings. He’s appreciative of it, ‘cause this whole conversation has left him feeling naked and exposed in ways he hasn’t been probably since Inias. 

“But I wanted to protect you, and I thought you’d trust me. And you weren’t there when I needed you the most, even though I’ve begged you to stay. Begged, Cas.” He doesn’t mean to sound accusatory and Dean wants to let bygones be bygones, but…”But I can’t be circumstantial to you, Cas. If I’m going to be your husband,  _ your family... _ family can’t be circumstantial.”

And there’s really nothing left for Cas to say, because he understands that. He may not understand it from personal experience, because he’s never been close with his siblings the way Dean has with Sam, but he understands that to Dean - family means everything.

Somewhere along the way, Dean has made a family out of Cas, only for Cas to subsequently lose the honor. The enormity of that realization leaves him hollow, draining all the fight out of him. He feels his throat tighten and face crumple as he begins to accept that his future wouldn’t be the one he’d spent countless hours daydreaming about. 

“Okay.” he manages in defeat, and the tears making his vision blurry threaten to spill over as he looks down at his twiddling thumbs. 

He’s so embarrassed. 

It is only then, that he hears Dean walking over to the stool where he’s sitting, and he feels strong, warm arms envelop him into an embrace and Dean’s lips press into his hair. The familiar scent of white musk and vanilla hits his nostrils as soon as he nestles himself into the fabric of Dean’s suit, and he allows himself to be comforted.They remain that way for a couple of minutes, just inhaling and exhaling together, until their breathing syncs. 

And then Dean’s the first one to pull back and look at Cas, who’s still unable to fully commit to the eye contact.

“I still want to marry you one day, Cas.” he whispers, and all Cas can think is:  _ just not now.  _

He can’t stop looking down at his ringless finger and mourning what could’ve been if he hadn’t been so stupid and naive. 

The side of Dean’s index finger comes to rest beneath Cas’s chin, and he tilts it up to catch his gaze. He does it so gently that Cas feels like he’s the most fragile and delicate thing Dean’s hands have ever handled. 

Dean must’ve also taken notice of Cas’s fixation with his ring finger, because he takes his hand to caress fondly, and he brings his knuckles up to place tender kisses upon them. He even lingers on the spot, and for all the insecurities floating around Cas’s head right now, he  _ knows  _ what Dean wants to say.  _ Just not now.  _ But definitely in the future. 

“Okay” is the only thing Cas can manage to say, because...because he’ll need some time. But he knows he’s going to be okay. 

“Okay. Because I have a home with you. And we have Squidward, so we have to get married so he’s not judged for being a child out of wedlock.” 

That makes Cas release a tearful chuckle, and he’s pretty positive some of the snot comes right out of his nose as he does. “I still can’t believe you made us name our cat Squidward.” he sniffs, bringing his hand up to his nose, to wipe off whatever bodily fluids might be there.

“He’s definitely Squidward’s long lost relative.” Dean defends his choice, and suddenly, with both of them smiling and no longer so far apart from each other, it’s slightly easier to breathe.

“But I mean it, Cas.” Dean insists, ‘cause it’s important for Cas to understand. “I have every intention of calling you my husband and a father of my children.”

Cas feels something akin to hope blossom in his chest. “Children, as in plural?”

“As many as you’d like.” Dean’s quick to respond, and seems utterly confident in his words.

“What if I want ten?”

“Make it eleven, so we can have our own football team.” 

Cas, all snotty and probably looking like a miserable sack of balls, chuckles again and smacks his shoulder lightly. “Stop it, Dean.” 

He goes on smiling as he leans further into Dean and tucks his face into Dean’s collar. 

Dean’s fingers are already carding their way into the dark of Cas’s hair, scratching at his nape in what he knows Cas finds to be a comforting gesture. 

Cas feels himself unravel at the intimacy of the touch. 

“I think we could manage two, at least. A boy and a girl.” Dean offers, more serious this time around.

“I like that.” Cas whispers out in relief. He’s been raised as one of the seven siblings, and he doesn’t think he could raise eleven children. 

“Cool.” Dean says, a wolfish grin spreading across his face.

“Cool.” Cas agrees, and he thinks, the two of them were going to be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> Should you feel inclined to leave a comment or kudos, I would be over the moon. These are what keeps us writers motivated to work harder on perfecting our craft, and prompt us into (faster) delivery of goods to the liking of readers. I hope you enjoy reading this at least half as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> You can talk to me on aelysianmuse.tumblr.com


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